


Misinterpretation

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-30
Updated: 2003-09-30
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Scully assumes the worst.





	Misinterpretation

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Misinterpretation

## Misinterpretation

### by ScamBeliever

TITLE: Misinterpretation (1/1)  
AUTHOR: ScamBeliever  
**RATING: PG**  
**CLASSIFICATION: S, A**  
**KEYWORDS: MSR**  
SPOILER WARNING: Small ones mentioned up to 6th season.  
SUMMARY: Scully assumes the worst. 

Misinterpretation (1/1)  
by ScamBeliever 

* * *

Basement office  
Tuesday, 2:34 pm

* * *

I can't breathe. 

Breathe Dana, breathe. 

Take a lungful before he comes back. 

I waited 'till the pounding in my head receded as air filled my oxygen depraved brain. I shook my head to clear the shock of my life. Swallowing painfully, I shoved the small box back in the drawer with shaking hands. 

Oh God, I _can't_ be like this when he returns. Somehow, I found myself walking back to my laptop and tried to take up as little space as I possibly can without obviously huddling. 

Work woman, work. That's the only way to do distract myself. I unlocked the computer and focused on my report. 

"...remains of Mr. Grimes were found   
incarcerated inside a wooden box..." 

"rectangular box on..." 

"...a box with symbolic carvings..." 

"a velvet box..." 

DAMNIT! This was not working. I felt my eyes grow warm, the beginning of prickling tears were forming but I knew the treacherous evidence of my pain won't fall. The fact that I was so affected that caused even just _that_ was humiliating enough. I desperately needed to go to the ladies room. 

But halfway standing up, the person I was so terrified to face came walking through the door. He was late. 

And whistling. 

My, my, aren't we just in a good mood Mulder. 

I wonder why? 

Here, have my umbrella Mulder. Go out and sing in the damn rain. Sing joyfully. Sing about your current state of wonder and happiness. Sing about someone who apparently made you so incredibly happy, you managed to buy an expensive velvet box. 

Run woman, run! 

I was at breakneck speed when he grabbed my arm, which made me lurch back. 

"Hey Scully, where are you going?" 

I looked up to see his earlier smile had thinned to a line. Nothing gets by this man and he instantly knew something's wrong. 

"I'm just going to the restroom." I said with false lightness. God, I wish I was a better liar. His frown deepened, peering at my face closely. 

"What's wrong?" 

Not 'Are you okay?', or even an altered 'Is there something wrong?', but he's assumed that there just was. Damn the man. Not that he's mistaken, I just wish sometimes that Mulder couldn't read me too well. 

What tipped you off, Mulder? My skin turning from pale to transparent? The cold sweat on my hair line? Or is it I've been admiring your not so well-shined black loafers since you latched to my stiffened arm? 

I tried for another lie. 

"Nothing." 

Why don't I learn? That lame answer coupled with my shot on great acting, I thank God I never considered Hollywood. I felt Mulder tense immediately at my one uttered word and let go of my arm. 

I'm free! Good. But before I even get to run from him, he puts a finger below my chin to slowly raise my head. This gentle gesture made me freeze to my spot. And when I raised my eyes to meet his...s#@t, I couldn't move. 

His thumb made a slow caress which only made me ice over even more. He's _not_ allowed to do that. Too intimate. Not when he... 

"Tell me the truth Scully." he begged, which for some reason, made me hate him at that particular moment. What a hypocrite. I'm f@# &ing upset Mulder. That's my truth. What about yours? 

"You tell me yours first." I said, not able to restrain the anger that laced my words. He stepped back abruptly as if to avoid physical harm. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

I stared hard at his suddenly blazing hazels. Pissed, are we Mulder? 

How does being kept in the dark feel? Do you like the feel of your stomach deflate ever so slowly? The dread marring other relevant thoughts from processing? I hope you feel thrice as much as I do right now. 

"Scully?! What the hell are..." He stopped when I snapped to attention and moved. I decided to show him rather than tell him because currently, I didn't trust myself to speak. 

I walked back to his desk, willing myself to keep my poise. Mulder's desk suddenly appeared to me like the ugliest jack-in-the-box and I couldn't believe I was forcing myself to touch it again. I hesitated before I pulled the second drawer open. 

Steady Dana. 

I reached for the velvet box and placed it carefully on top of his desk. For a moment, I couldn't seem to tear my gaze from it. How such a small thing can have such an effect on the people involved. 

Or those who were firmly reminded that they're not. 

When I looked up, I found Mulder wearing the exact expression I wore when I first found it. He looked like his knees were about to buckle any minute. 

Clogged throat. Pain in the chest. Eyes watered. 

Breathe Dana, breathe. 

So he did keep it from me. 

"This was what has been on my mind." I finally said, just to break the silence. My voice seemed to penetrate through his shock and he switched his gaze from the small box to me. His look didn't change and I fully took in his expression. 

He's terrified. 

My heart sank lower, dangling below waist level. My waist, not his. I could only interpret his fear as confirmation. 

I really, REALLY needed to get out of here fast. 

"How much does it bother you?" he asked timidly. 

Oh dear God, did he have to ask? I can't believe he's expecting me to answer that. My heart sank lower to my knees. 

"What bothers me is why?" is what I blurted out. Great, prolong this even more, woman. 

I pressed my fingers to my temple more out of weariness than pain. 

"Why?" he croaked. 

My eyes flew open to assess him. Yes Mulder. Why??? Of course I wanted to know why. Was he deliberately playing dumb? Above all else, I wanted to know why! 

"Yes Mulder, why didn't you tell me?" 

He then tore his gaze from me and ran his fingers through his hair. His hands dropped to his hips while he shifted his weight from one leg to another. 

"I wasn't sure if you'd be...pleased." 

Pleased??? That wasn't the word that came to my mind, Mulder. Try 'mad as hell,' or 'terribly upset' would be right up there. Disappointed even. NOT 'pleased'. 

If I could punch him right then, I would have. My fingers were already digging deep into my palm. How the hell did he come up with **PLEASED?**

I've had enough. It's confirmed and I can't take more of this. 

"It just...happened...Scully..." 

Oh great. He's going to try to explain. I better stop him before I kill both of us. 

The problem is, it's futile. Once decided, even if it would mean digging his own grave, he will act upon his decision. 

"When?" I relented. If he was going to confess, might as well cover the pertinent points. 

He swallowed and answered, "When you came back, after Duane Barry." 

I forced the whimper not to escape from my lips. Way back then? Bastard. He was in contact with Diana since then? Goddamn sneak. He might as well jammed a knife right through my gut. Oh right, he just did. 

"God Scully. I needed something to hold on to. Something to keep me steady, focused..." 

Nice to know Diana can fill that void, Mulder. I'm happy for you. Please excuse me while I cough up my lunch on your shoes. 

Calculating b-tch. Way back then? I can't believe he was able to keep her from me since. The absurdity of all this was beyond my comprehension. 

"And when you...when you came back from Philedelphia, I got them engraved." 

Oh yes. How could I possibly forget those? The letters and the image would forever be etched on my mind. 

"'DM' on one white-gold band and 'FM' on the other. Go stab me one more time Mulder. I don't think I felt the previous ones. And to think he even dared to glaze his words with bitterness. 

My eyes were burning, causing me to blink a few times. How painful it was to know that for my every tragedy, he found strength through Diana. If I remembered how to cry then, that would've been the exact moment I probably would've shed a tear. But it has been so long so I swallowed them instead out of habit. 

"Did you...uh...see them?" he asked. 

See what? The initials engraved? Was he making a conscious effort to make this more torturous than I could handle? God Mulder. Wasn't the knife blunt enough or plunged deep enough for your liking? 

"Scully. Did you see -" 

"Yes Mulder. I saw it. Crystal clear." I cut in too sharply. My suddenly raised tone startled him. 

"It's beautiful. It's very sweet. Diana would be...PLEASED." 

This stunned him. His eyes were wide with surprise. 

F@# & it. I didn't care if it came out the way it did. Who f@#&ing cares. Obviously, he never did. It's too late, this was too much, and it's gone on too long. I'm outta here. 

"Mulder...I'm sorry. I'm...let's just talk about this tomorrow. I'm just disappointed you didn't trust me enough to let me know. You can explain everything to me some other time." 

Good girl. Not your best save but polite nonetheless. 

Did not faint. Slow, even breaths. 

Escape was now my mission but Mulder stopped me yet again. He walked purposefully towards me and I stifled a gasp when I looked into his eyes. He looked like a hungry eagle who just found his meal. What the hell was that smug smile for? 

A new fear ran up my spine and his desk prevented me from backing away from him. He stopped a foot short away as he momentarily broke eye contact and he reached for the small velvet box. 

I looked away, not expecting the painful stab of seeing it in his hand. 

And then suddenly, I felt his hand lifting mine, spread my fingers open, and placed cold metal on it. I stared at the ring he had placed on my cold palm. 

DM. Diana Mulder. 

My teeth ground together as I struggled through blurring vision. 

Not now. I bitterly commanded my tears to restrain themselves. Don't they dare fall. 

Thank you Mulder. The salt you have rubbed on my wounds were just about right. Rub some more. Suit yourself. 

"This...was not intended for Diana." he said quietly. 

**WHAT?**

I almost dropped the ring as my eyes flew over to his. It _was_ a smug smile that I saw tugging on his lips. 

I looked at each eye, and tried to gauge how serious he was. This was NOT the best time to tease. When he realized my scrutiny, his smile disappeared but continued to stare back at me. Hard. 

Oh. My. God. 

It couldn't be. Nononononono.... 

I felt my face flush, burning hot. I'm also sure it already matched my hair. I felt so exposed. 

I think Mulder saw that the ring was in danger of tumbling to the floor when he folded my fingers to a fist and secured it with his own hand which enveloped mine. His touch only added to my embarrassment, but I didn't struggle from his hold. I didn't think I had the strength. I wished the crack on the floor opened wide and swallowed me whole. 

Still recovering from humiliation, I then heard Mulder's voice low and near. His lips were right next to my ear. When did he get so close? 

"Does it have a nice _ring_ to it?" he asks silkily and I tried to ignore his warm breath that tickled my skin. 

Dana Mulder. I could get used to it. It sounded okay, as far as names go. Okay, so it sounded AMAZING. I didn't answer him though. I didn't think my voice was yet up to task after that revelation. So I neither moved nor answered. 

Mulder didn't appear to be deterred by my nonreaction. It most probably had something to do   
with my previous sudden eruption of heavily guarded feelings. 

I felt him shift and finally let go of my hand. I readied myself for another (hopefully unaborted) escape. I planned to just break away and walk out. The turn of events had heightened my panic and distance was the only thing I could think of that would help sort out my rampaging emotions. And, admittedly, simply hide from embarrassment. But even this idea was not an option as Mulder moved not to leave but rather to press closer still for a full embrace. 

It appeared that Mulder wasn't satisfied with just holding my hand. He wrapped his arms around me slowly and gently. Just right. 

It scared the hell out of me. 

I almost jumped as I felt his hand as it ran through my hair and the other arm latched firmly around my waist. My arms, which hung limply at my sides, felt awkward at the current position. Somehow I mustered the nerve to place them on his upper arms and left them there. That small, almost imperceptible move caused Mulder to tighten his hold on me, his head dropping to my neck. 

The gesture was too sweet, and seeing how much I was affecting him was beyond me. I wanted to believe. 

And if feeling him this close was not enough, I froze when I felt him breathe me in. I felt the sucked air as it tickled the side of my neck. And when I felt moisture from soft lips at that exact spot, I forgot to breathe altogether. 

Oh dear God. 

I'm sure Mulder could hear my heart pound hard and fast. Maybe it was just my imagination. Or an accident. Maybe. Quickly deciding that it was probably nothing, I allowed myself to breathe again. No use killing myself over it. 

I think we need to talk more than just hug the entire day. This must be breaking his back anyway. But then I felt his lips graze my neck again. 

Nonononononononononono.... 

"Uhm.." was all I could manage. 

And if the feel of his lips on me was already sensory overload, I knew for sure that my legs were ready to give when his tongue swirled through the gentle nibbling his lips were doing. 

**OH. MY. GOD.**

I felt it take a warm, long sweep and I realized that I was in a lot more trouble. This was too much, too sudden and I tried to push away from him. I got as far as my nose about an inch away from his suit's lapels. NOT the result I was going for. I underestimated Mulder's hold on me because it wasn't as loose as before. 

Could he just please stop attending to my neck? It's driving me crazy. 

Well, good crazy really. Amazing crazy. But it's still distracting and I truly believe we should start discussing _this_. 

When I felt his teeth come in contact with my skin, I couldn't help squirm away eventhough how pointless the move was as I've already proven that he had me locked tight. I'm going for speech. 

Smart move. Why hadn't I thought of it sooner? 

"Mu-Mulder?" 

Well that was steady. But it worked and Mulder stopped immediately, lifting his lips from my blushing neck. 

"Oh my God..." 

My words exactly, Mulder. 

"I'm sorry, Scully." He rights himself up as he apologized, unconsiously brushing his lips on his way. 

"It's just..." A kiss below the jaw. 

"I didn't..." A kiss on my temple. 

He finally settled with just an out of breath "Scully" leaning his forehead against mine after baptizing it with another kiss. 

I stared at his chin, the only view I was allowed now, thinking of how to begin 'talking' because if I let Mulder open the discussion and his prior halting apology/explanation was of any indication, we wouldn't be getting anywhere. Knowing a bit of what he's going through right now, I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking his sweet, damn time. 

He surprised me when he spoke with a complete sentence. 

"Wasn't exactly the kind of proposal you dreamed of, was it?" 

I slightly forgot about my embarrassment and let myself laugh at the absurdity of our situation. I felt his eyes on me, wrinkles prominent around them as he enjoyed my soft chuckle. 

"That was one?" I managed to get out in between wheezes. 

"Hey, if that's how bad it was, I would like to know what happens the moment you put that ring on my finger." he answered. 

My laughter abated when I heard the serious underlying tone in his words. I realized that he's asking me again. He's hopeful and was coaxing for my answer. He must've thought it a good sign that I hadn't kicked his ass. 

Unfortunately, I didn't have an answer ready for him. That's why we needed to discuss this and I know it would be a long one. Maybe somewhere through it, I can find my answer. 

But something bothered me and I stalled my plan for a while, curious enough to ask. I opened my palm and held it up to him. 

"Put this on 'your' finger?" 

He swallowed and shuffled his feet. And because he had yet to let go of me, I jiggle with him. This was definitely getting ridiculous. I do believe Mulder's getting too attached. This closeness apparently was a major distraction to both of us but I waited for his answer before we changed positions. 

He cleared his throat, looking like he was wearing ill-fitting boxers. His eyes darted everywhere, settled on every object besides me. 

"That's supposed to be mine." He reached for the velvet box and took the other half of the set. He lifted it up, shoving it under my nose. I would've pointed out that my nose couldn't read if I hadn't squinted and saw what he was trying to show me. 

'FM' were the initials on the other ring. 

"This is supposed to be yours." he whispered so timidly, his fear, insecurities and hope, all present in his voice. 

The ring did look too small for him. As his meaning sank in, everything felt surreal. 

Mulder was watching my every change of expression, waiting for me to laugh at his corny sentiment. And I did. One would've thought I'd be rendered speechless. Turns out my tongue was alive and wagging with delight. Maybe even a bit too much. I had to get a grip. 

I wasn't laughing that hard really. More than a chuckle but less than a guffaw. It just dawned on me how utterly strange this was coming from Mulder, and this whole thing happening to us. 

I slowly stopped, realizing that Mulder's face had crumpled at my reaction. Now it had grown slack and before I fully calmed myself, there was already enough space for a person to pass between us. His head hung in defeat while his hand was curled to a tight fist, no doubt already trying to reshape his ring. My ring. Whatever. 

He obviously wasn't sharing my amusement. I put on my most reassuring smile and closed the gap between us. He slightly flinched as I placed my hand on his cheek, sliding it slowly down his chin and urged his head upright. He didn't budge. 

I slowly slid my knuckles along his arm, as I still had the ring in my hand, noting how rigid it was. I continued until I found his tense fist. I caressed his knuckles and moved my free fingers to pry his. 

He seemed to tighten it more, which had me slightly worried that he might actually draw blood. But he did relax and I was able to slide my palm against his, the rings melded by our joined hands. I watched Mulder's face as he fought for control. 

His dark and heartbreakingly moist eyes were now trained somewhere above my head. The hurt was too much for him, and he failed to mask it well. I was shocked to actually have such an effect on him, to cause him this much pain. I was just about to speak when Mulder's struggle pushed one second too hard. There was a momentary weakening of barriers and he was unable to quickly patch the accidental leak. The wetness glistened on his face and my chest tightened at the sight. I almost expected it to burn his skin and eat through flesh. 

All thoughts of a thorough discussion was trampled by the need to ease Mulder's hurt. 

Without thinking I tiptoed and placed my lips on his cheek to block the path of the tear. I reached for the back of his head, putting slight pressure so that I can brush my lips on his eyelids, hoping the source of the leak would be sealed. 

When I started to pull away, I was suddenly swallowed by his wall of chest and long arms. 

I didn't move, tried hard not to feel   
claustrophobic. Minutes turned to hours and to years, decades and to eons. I didn't know how to push away without him misunderstanding. 

Finally he whispered to my hair, "Well that was one hell of a way to say yes." 

I could hear his warm smile. I was stunned. The numbness crawled slowly up my spine. 

This couldn't be. This wasn't what I intended. Even if it cost Mulder's happiness (or if I could also admit it to myself, mine as well), I couldn't make him believe a lie. 

Unaware of my personal dilemma, Mulder rocked me to a silent rhythm, his right hand brushing my hair, his left, which still clutched his/my ring, drew circular patterns on my back. 

No, I couldn't let him believe a lie. 

"Mulder..." I stopped and took a deep breath. 

"Hmm..." he answered. 

"That wasn't a yes." I said in a rushed whisper. 

He stopped rocking. 

I stopped breathing. 

After another eternity, he slowly pulled away, dragging his weight and arms away from me. It felt like they were scratching their way across my heart. He reached for my hand and I thought maybe he understood. But he simply opened it and took the ring from me. The tears made another try to leave my eyes. 

I swallowed hard and almost choked. 

"Mulder..." I started. 

He reached for the velvet box and carefully replaced the rings. 

"Muld-" 

"I understand, Scully." he cut in, his harsh tone belied the anger that his gentle movements tried to cover. 

"Mulder, you don't." I said carefully. 

"Yes, I do. PERFECTLY." he dismissed. 

"Don't do this Mulder." 

"Well, it's a little too late for that, isn't it? I've propositioned, I've taken it back. You could've skipped your cryptic answer and saved me from my humiliation and seeing to my shattered heart." 

His sarcasm never failed to hit the wrong nerve in me and I had to literally bite my tongue to keep from saying something I'd regret. 

Let it slide Dana, you may have accidentally stepped on this man's heart. With your three inch heels no less. 

"That wasn't a rejection." That was the best way I could put it at that time and I really thought it simply but clearly explained how I felt. I knew Mulder wasn't dense. 

But instead of carefully analyzing my words, I wasn't prepared for the pent up fury Mulder's confusion had pushed him to release. 

"Then what the hell was it??? I'VE been with you since you returned after Duane Barry. I married you when you cried in front of me after we caught Donnie Pfaster. I took my vows as I aimed my own gun at your face with Modell screaming in my mind to pull the trigger. I married you when you had cancer even when you finally accepted it, even when you might as well have cut me out of your life. But I kept marrying you when you went into remission, and after the tattooed reminder of Ed f@#*ing Jerse! Even through Padgett's written obscenity!" 

"I kept marrying you and MARRYING YOU..." The torrent of words spewed from his mouth. If he meant to hit me hard with them, he aimed perfectly and effectively. I felt every blow. Expect nothing less from a well-trained agent. He punctuated his fury when he suddenly hurled the precious box across the room. 

I was too stunned to react, still too numb from the bruising words. I ached all over. 

"If that wasn't a rejection Scully, then WHAT WAS IT?" he demanded, his voice loud enough to shake the entire basement office. It rattled my mind and strangled the already choking part in my chest. I wanted to swoon and helplessly fall on his feet, or even just drop gracelessly across the dirty floor. Anyhow, it didn't matter. Anything to cease this nightmare. 

But of course I couldn't. I've never fainted in my life and I don't think I would start anytime soon. 

"It's a postponement." I said, my voice cracking. 

We held each other's eyes. Mine pleading, his piercing. 

Read them, Mulder. Look deeply. Please understand what I've said. 

Something flickered in his hazels, a change of color, maybe. A change of mood, definitely. 

He slowly straightened himself and quietly walked out of the room. 

Maybe I should've tried swooning. 

* * *

Coming back to work after what happened yesterday was probably one of the most dreaded moments of my life. I had to stick my arm between the elevator doors before it completely shut without having gotten off. My heels stomped noisily on the hall and surprised me how loudly it announced my presence. So much for slipping quietly into his office. 

As if he wouldn't notice me there. Who else would be there in his office? I'd be very scared if he didn't. 

The office was empty. 

I exhaled slowly, unsure how long I've been holding it. There were no signs that he had come in already. No bagels or hot cup of coffee on his desk. 

Maybe that wasn't a reliable indication. After my supposed rejection last night, it didn't seem likely he would be bringing me breakfast. I think it would be safer to assume that he may be just lurking around the building. 

No one called anyone after that horrible incident. I was too shook up to smooth things out too soon. I was furious at him and didn't come anywhere near my phone. I had even turned my cellphone off before I reached the car when I finally called it a day. I had paced around my apartment, shucked off clothes, stubbed my toe on my way to my bedroom, banged drawers, stabbed at my teeth and gums while foam dripped on my chin. 

The theme of my restless night was 'Mulder, the unfair a--hole.' 

Marry my ass, Mulder. For someone who supposedly cared deeply for me, he sure showed it in an interesting way. 

How many times had I been dragged out of bed to come after him in one of his own   
investigations, just to find out I would only get as far as the hospital. It's hard to see his undying devotion when I get to the office, only to be greeted by a carefully placed case file with a hastily pasted post-it informing me of his current location. And it was virtually impossible to feel his unconditional love while he practically salivated in the presence of Diana Fowley. 

I shook out of my reverie and returning anger. I had better type and finish the report that was due in a couple of hours. Unless Skinner took a personal leave, got abducted or killed, the report should be on his desk on the dot. 

I went to 'my corner' - a makeshift desk consisting of a chair and a low file drawer - and started to set up my laptop. As soon as my computer was up, I saw that I had an unread message waiting for me. The world closed in and my heart forgot to take a couple of beats before it started to pound heavily. 

Mulder had sent a message. 

From: To: Subject: Sorry son of a b*@ &#. 

I'm sure there are a dozen more, hell a million more names you'd want to call me, but the subject line can only accommodate so much. That was the first but certainly not the only thing I thought of. Anyway, I'm sure it was the consensus last night. 

I'm sorry Scully. 

I'm sorry you had to find out that way. I'm sorry for handling it the way I did. I'm sorry for being so presumptuous and selfish. I'm sorry you had to hear a confused, frustrated and desperate man's confession, claiming to have the right to have you, own you, label you as mine. 

I'm sorry I wouldn't listen because I was too busy ranting. Because I was a coward, easily wounded by your slightest hesitation. Because I know what I'm offering is virtually nothing, yet I still had the gall to need you and want you, to be permanently attached to my side. And I'm a fool to ask for something more than I could possibly deserve. 

I'm sorry I walked away Scully. To be honest, I would've run out of the office if I hadn't felt so numb. But I needed to go, to think and to accept what you've said. 

I'm still frustrated Scully. And I'm still desperate. But above all, I'm still aching. 

As much as I would just want to end this torment, I would rather take your word for it, to see you through that 'postponement.' 

Even if the wait kills me. 

So Scully, humor me and open the second drawer on the right side of my desk. If whatever you see in there won't make you take my proposition seriously, need I remind you that I have not stopped in my pursuit to find my sister more than 20 years since she was taken from me. 

Do the math Scully. In this case, I'm only just beginning. 

M. 

Through the letter, I've gone from almost crying, to smiling and to raising my eyebrow. Only Mulder can turn an apology to a warning. He still failed to see my point but at least he's given me the time and opportunity to drill it to his head. 

I read through the message again and found myself...touched by his words. I felt my face grow warm and red at the thought of his intensity, of his relentless pursuit   
of...well...me. Although it was a bit intimidating. 

Such an embarrassingly girly, exhilarating feeling but I had to admit, it's more than flattering. 

I went to his desk and opened the second drawer. I felt a sense of deja vu and I couldn't help hesitating before opening the thing that started it all. I slowly slid it open. 

There was the same velvet box. Counting to three, I reached for it. 

They were the same rings. I think... 

Well, the smaller ring (supposedly my ring) was the same. "FM" was still flawlessly engraved. When I examined the larger one (his ring), both my eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was a different ring. 

On its inside part, it was now expertly engraved "DKSM." 

I felt my lips slowly tugging to a smile. Mulder wanted it to be perfectly clear to me. 

He didn't want another misinterpretation. 

**END**

* * *

Yep, it's fluff. Did it reek? :/ Do tell at 

Thank you for taking time to read a bit of my X-Files insanity. :)   
  


#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to ScamBeliever


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